Page 72 of Counting the Stars

“Oh, I love the idea,” Aly gushes. “I’ve gotten so attached to our place, but knowing someone I care about would be living in it makes me feel better already. Plus, it even has an office for all your work stuff.”

“I have always wanted an office.” Carter leans back in his chair. “And I know you did some quality upgrades.”

“The best. Plus, you get the view of the woods and awesome neighbors.” Aly goes in to seal the deal.

“All right, you got me.” Carter holds his hands up in surrender, then looks at Jax and Aly. “I guess we’ll go over the details later?”

“Yup.” Jax takes an enormous helping of Aly’s sweet potato casserole. “We’ll talk over all the boring stuff then.”

The rest of the night continues like nothing is changing at all. Aly tells Carter and Michelle how she’s the proud new owner of Alex’s Mr. February towel. The guys discuss an upcoming convention for home renovators, and at some point, we each talk about our favorite childhood Christmas. We eat a ton, laugh a lot, then eat some more.

This is what I love about my life. This is my family.

38

Gabby

Lights flicker overhead as thunder roars like a hungry lion protecting its pride. My mom used to tell me that the sound of thunder was angels bowling. If that’s the case tonight, they’re having one hell of a party.

“Good thing the hospital upgraded their generator a few years ago.” Marissa looks up at the ceiling. “It sounds like it’s going to come right through the roof.”

I nod in agreement. I’m so grateful that Alex is at home tonight. I’d be worried sick thinking that he was working out in this weather. Not that I want anyone to risk their life out there, but I’m still coming to terms with the fact that my boyfriend has a dangerous job. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ll ever be fully okay with it.

Looking at my watch, I realize it’s just about time to check on one of my patients. The latest Taylor Swift song plays behind the curtain to Room 402. I peek in and smile. There lies a fourteen-year-old girl who has mysteriously started having seizures. Thankfully, all the tests we’ve run have come backnormal, but there’s only so much we can do at our small community hospital. She’s going to have to see a pediatric specialist for her condition.

“Hi, Brianna. I have good news. There’s an opening up at Children’s. We’re working on getting you transported there now.” I look around the empty space by her bed. “Did you kick your parents out?”

“I told them to go get something to eat in the cafeteria,” she says with her eyes glued to her phone. Her honey-brown hair lies atop her head in a messy bun. A pink hoodie hides the hospital gown underneath. I wonder if she’s trying to make a fashion statement or needs another blanket.

“Are you cold?”

“No,” she says with all the defiance of a young teenager. Oh, I don’t miss those years.

“Well, I need to get your vitals, so can you put your phone down for a minute?”

My patient rolls her eyes but does as I ask. I grab my thermometer and place it near her forehead.

“Ninety-eight point six. Perfect.” I place the thermometer in the pocket of my scrubs.

“Then why am I still here?” Brianna whines. “There’s a school dance tonight. All my friends are there, and I’m stuck in this stupid hospital bed.”

“You know why,” I say gently. I remember all too well being her age. “Hopefully, this is just a temporary thing and you’ll be back hanging out with your friends soon.”

“My parents won’t leave me alone. They keep staring at me like I’m going to disappear or something.”

“They love you.” I have her remove the sleeve of her hoodie to take her blood pressure. “I know they seem to be hovering, but they’re worried. They want the best for you. Can you give them a little slack?”

“Maybe,” she grumbles and looks away from me.

“You know, I was around your age when I lost my parents.”

“You were?” She turns her head to look at me with wide eyes. Thanks to the support of Alex and the rest of my friends, I’m strong enough to talk about my experience now. Maybe I can help others by sharing my story.

“Yes, and my little sister too.” I drag a chair next to her bedside. Thankfully, she’s my only patient for the night.

“What happened?”

“They passed away in a fire. I didn’t have any other family, so I had to live in a group home until I was old enough to leave. I know right now your parents seem like the lamest people in the world, but I’d give anything to have my mom yelling at my sister and me to clean our room.” I sit in the chair, reminiscing about my childhood. “Oh, and the dad jokes. My dad had the worst dad jokes ever.”

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